


Split Juncture

by AirgiodSLV



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-12
Updated: 2004-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-20 10:20:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16135244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AirgiodSLV/pseuds/AirgiodSLV
Summary: Elijah stays in bed for as long as he possibly can, pretending to sleep and listening to the hum of the air conditioning through the vents, clinging to the last remnants of a pleasant dream. Eventually, though, the sheer feeling of grimy laziness drives him out of bed and into the shower, where he continues to pretend that there is nothing special about this day. Nothing at all.





	Split Juncture

**Author's Note:**

> For the contrelamontre ‘deadline’ challenge; and also for Avi, because she deserves a bit of cheer. Written in one hour and one minute.

_12:11 PM_

Elijah stays in bed for as long as he possibly can, pretending to sleep and listening to the hum of the air conditioning through the vents, clinging to the last remnants of a pleasant dream. Eventually, though, the sheer feeling of grimy laziness drives him out of bed and into the shower, where he continues to pretend that there is nothing special about this day. Nothing at all.

 

_12:32 PM_

Dom is in the kitchen.

“What are you doing here?” Elijah asks, automatically adjusting his towel so that it clings more securely about his hips. Not that Dom cares, but…well…it’s the principle of the thing. You don’t just go waltzing about in your altogether when there’s company over. Although after this long and their previous status as roommates, Dom barely classifies as company anymore.

“Making a sandwich,” Dom announces, although he’s clearly not, he’s sitting at the table reading a newspaper instead. He glances up in time to see Elijah’s skeptical look and elaborates helpfully. “I heard you in the shower and decided to wait.”

“Oh.” Elijah starts to speak, but his eyes catch on a familiar envelope lying in the center of the table. Familiar, but out-of-place. “Don’t tell me Billy left his airline ticket,” he groans, snatching up the package and checking the contents. Sure enough: 5 PM, LAX.

“He didn’t,” Dom assures him, nose buried again in his paper. “That one’s for you.”

 

_12:37 PM_

“I’m not going to Scotland,” Elijah snaps, more from shock than actual annoyance, and drops the envelope back onto the table before it can burn him, or attach itself to his hand, or something else equally unlikely.

Dom doesn’t look up, but Elijah can practically feel the long-suffering sigh he knows Dom is holding in. “It’s a lovely country.”

“Did you do this?” Elijah demands. “Did Billy put you up to it? Why on earth would you think that I would want to go to Scotland?”

“Billy’s in Scotland,” Dom points out reasonably. “Or he will be, in another twelve hours or so.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Elijah exclaims, forcing a short laugh that ends up sounding more like a caw. “Nothing _happened,_ Dom.”

“No, but something might have,” Dom argues, “If he had stayed longer.” To all appearances, he’s still immersed in his paper, although Elijah knows better than to think that he has no stake in this. Dom has been on the fringes of this all week, nudging and plotting. It’s why Billy had ended up visiting Elijah more than Dom, which is almost unheard of with the three of them.

“Something didn’t,” Elijah replies shortly, and as far as he’s concerned that’s the end of it. “What kind of sandwich do you want? I’m making one.”

“Something still could,” Dom tries again, nodding meaningfully towards the plane ticket.

“Pastrami,” Elijah decides a bit desperately, and flees to put on some clothes.

 

_1:02 PM_

“Don’t tell me you didn’t want anything to happen,” Dom says as soon as Elijah emerges from his bedroom, armored in jeans and a t-shirt that’s clinging to his still-damp skin. He’s given up the premise of reading the newspaper now, and is standing with hands on hips, chin set stubbornly, the epitome of misplaced male aggression.

“ _You_ wanted something to happen,” Elijah responds, still reeling a bit from the unexpected attack. Usually, Dom is more passive about this sort of thing, just sits back and waits for his opponent to come to him. “ _I_ just…”

“Fiddlesticks,” Dom says, and Elijah blinks twice, and then starts laughing. Dom grumbles, but ends up smiling as well. “Come on, then,” he says finally, body relaxing in capitulation. “How about those sandwiches?”

 

_1:11 PM_

“Billy really did want…” Dom begins, trailing off when Elijah looks up at him in surprise. “You know. It was just…”

“Timing,” Elijah sighs. “I know.” He’d thought they were through with this, but apparently not. He should have known better; Dom doesn’t give in easily once his mind is set on something.

“Yeah.” Dom pauses to smear Grey Poupon over his rye bread. “You have a week off. You could go visit him for a while. It would be different, there.”

Elijah looks at Dom, considering. “We’d still have the same problem,” he points out. “It would just be another week’s delay.”

“Could be enough, though,” Dom argues.

Elijah folds his sandwich in half and doesn’t comment.

 

_1:34 PM_

The tickets are still sitting there, looking at him, when they finish eating. “I can’t go,” he says aloud, to convince himself more than Dom, although if he can get Dom on his side this would be considerably easier. “It’s too late.”

“It’s never too late,” Dom replies agreeably, but he doesn’t push the issue.

“It wasn’t meant to be,” Elijah protests, but it’s half-hearted at best.

“Nonsense,” Dom says crisply. “Or you wouldn’t still be thinking about it.”

 

_2:14 PM_

“I hope the plane gets hijacked by terrorists,” Elijah announces defiantly.

“Tut,” Dom reprimands dismissively, and goes back to reading his book.

 

_2:49 PM_

“Why are you still here, Dom?” Elijah asks finally, after giving up on reading a book, playing a video game, and making a last-ditch attempt to clean his living room. The latter points to a certain desperation which he chooses not to acknowledge, but at least he’d finally thrown out those lollipop wrappers that were all over the place. “Aren’t you taking Billy to the airport?”

Dom stretches lazily, ensconced on the couch with a worn paperback and a glass of iced tea. “No, Orlando said he would do it. Something about reminiscing over their first flight together. I don’t know what they’re going to do about the champagne,” he muses, and turns a page.

“Oh,” Elijah says blankly, and fidgets listlessly with a stack of magazines that he never actually orders, but which show up at his house from time to time without notice or explanation. He keeps them for guests, and for times when he’s trying not to think about something else. Magazines are good for that. Lots of pictures.

“Why?” Dom asks, eyeing him shrewdly. “Did you want me to take him?”

Elijah opens his mouth, closes it. “No,” he finally answers, confused. “It’s just…if you were there, you wouldn’t be here.”

Dom frowns at him, and then goes back to reading. Elijah flails helplessly after something to say in apology, but eventually gives up and goes outside to have a smoke.

 

_3:13 PM_

Elijah returns from the back porch feeling much better, full of nicotine and determination. “It’s too late now, at any rate,” he tells Dom with a smile, gesturing at the clock. “I’d never make it to the airport in time.”

“Elijah,” Dom drawls, giving him the patented Monaghan look of infinite wisdom and patience, “If you don’t want to go, then don’t. But if you’re just stalling until it’s too late so that you can mope around for the rest of the week wishing you’d gone…” He trails off, lifting an eyebrow to illustrate his point. “Don’t.”

Elijah feels his heart sink somewhere below his chest, into his stomach. Or maybe that’s just guilt. Either way. “I think…” he starts, feeling very small and lost all of a sudden, and then can’t bring himself to say the rest.

Dom closes his book with a snap and drops it onto the coffee table. “Grab your passport.”

 

_3:25 PM_

“This is insane,” Elijah yells, as Dom shoves him out the door with an overnight bag and his mobile, the airline ticket clutched in one hand. “I don’t even have time to pack!” He’s not too worried about that for some reason, though. There’s a bubbling elation instead, which simply refuses to be cowed by reality.

“Taxi should be here in five,” Dom soothes him, grinning. “And I wouldn’t worry too much about not having clothes. I’m sure Billy won’t mind.” His eyes twinkle as Elijah blushes, blood heating his cheeks. “If nothing else, you can borrow his clothes.”

Elijah starts to protest, but then he gets distracted by the memory of Bill emerging sleep-blurry and tousled from the guest room, a pair of Elijah’s flannel pants just barely hanging on his hips, because he’d forgotten to pack pajamas.

“Good boy,” Dom says, still grinning like a maniac, and then glances over Elijah’s shoulder and points. “There’s the taxi. Have a safe trip, and call me when you get to Glasgow.”

Elijah nods, and they both stare at each other for a second before Dom laughs and pushes Elijah down the walk.

 

_3:33 PM_

“LAX,” Elijah tells the cabbie as he gets in, pulling his overnight bag onto the seat beside him. “And please hurry; I’m running a little late.”


End file.
